


Before I laid my eyes on you

by Achromos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 50 First Dates AU, Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dating, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achromos/pseuds/Achromos
Summary: Jack Morrison is an Air Force pilot on leave between tours, when he meets Gabriel Reyes, an artist living in LA. They both seem to take an immediate liking to each other, but there is one catch: every morning, Gabriel forgets everything that happened since the day of an accident he had one year prior.





	Before I laid my eyes on you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome to the 50 First Dates AU! For those of you who know the movie, this is not an exact "replica" of the movie, but there are a lot of similarities, especially in the first half of the fic. Also, I have made significant amendments, meaning that in contrast to the movie, this is not a comedy or a crack fic respectively. For those of you who don't know the movie, don't worry. You didn't really miss much, except some tasteless jokes and Adam Sandler's ugly mug ^^ I just liked the basic premise, and adapted it to the morreyeson ship.
> 
> Also I apologize in advance, I have no idea how the US Air Force works, and I am aware that leave and tours don't work that way. Suspension of disbelief for the sake of fluff? xD
> 
> The title is a quote from the lyrics of the song "Adore" by Jasmine Thompson. I very much suggest you check it out, especially the acoustic version is lovely.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it!

The first time Jack Morrison met Gabriel Reyes, he was in quite the mood. Having just returned from his first tour in Afghanistan as an Air Force pilot, he told himself he needed to see something else than the four walls he’d grown up in, or the harsh desert overseas. So he rented a motorbike, a sleek and fast machine that made him feel like he was almost flying in his jet, and drove south along the US west coast.

Just a few miles short of his destination LA, the damn thing broke down, leaving Jack stranded in a no-name little town – actually it was called Sand Springs, or so a washed-out signpost told him – that felt like it was even closer to the ass-end of the world than the hick town he came from. He had to leave the rental in a repair shop that looked more like the local brewery, not least due to the permeating smell of moonshine. The mechanic even wore spurs and a cowboy hat.

Starting to think he was dehydrated and hallucinating, Jack sought out Sand Springs’ local watering hole, the “Sandy’s”, a two-for-one deal diner and bar. Entering the air conditioned shade after the glaring sun outside, Jack was left reeling, even after he removed his aviator sunglasses.

As he waited for the server to pour him a beer, he observed the other customers. Most of them looked like they had grown roots where they were and become one with the tacky décor. There were also two Japanese looking boys – one stern, the other swinging his legs wildly and gesturing boisterously – who were drinking milkshakes. The cook, puttering about behind the counter, had a beard so long it had to be unsanitary. The waitress, a tall, curvaceous woman with pale, almost bluish skin, narrowed her eyes at Jack when he caught her fiddling with the tap.

Just as he was spotted staring, Jack himself had the distinct feeling of being watched. That in and of itself wasn’t so surprising, considering he was very, very clearly a stranger. But there was something about it, an intensity that made Jack’s skin tingle. Subtly, he checked the corners and watched the reflections in the bottles of alcohol lined up like brave little soldiers in front of him.

There. Movement, from his eight o’clock. He thanked the waitress and slapped down a tenner, and daringly turned around to meet the other person’s stare.

As he was nonchalantly about to take a drink from his beer, it was no surprise the entirety of his first sip ended up splashed all over his front when his wannabe stalker turned out to be the most gorgeous man Jack ever laid eyes upon. And as a military man, he’d seen a lot of superb male specimens in his time.

The man had the audacity to laugh quietly into his fist, warm, brown eyes lighting up with mirth. And then he turned his back on Jack, busying himself with … pencils. And papers. Strewn all across the table he was sitting at, all alone.

Jack licked his lips and took a deep breath.

“Excuse me, sir, but you made me make a fool of myself, how do you imagine you will repay me?”

Tall, dark and gorgeous looked up, a smirk still dancing on his lips, and touched a finger to his cheek as if deep in thought.

“I can’t help that you made a fool of yourself, but very well. I’ll grant you a wish.”

Jack’s heart hammered. No, he had to be courteous. Seduce this beautiful person slowly, gently. After all, the cowboy told him his bike wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow. Enough time for a roll in the hay.

“How about you tell me your name, villain,” Jack said, grinning.

“Reyes. Gabriel Reyes. And you are?”

“Morrison. Jack.”

They shook hands, and Jack daringly sat down vis à vis of gorgeous Gabriel. He kept his glass away from the table, since nearly every available surface was littered with paper. A couple of newspapers. And … sketches?

“What are you drawing?”

Gabriel bashfully gathered the stacks of paper and muttered something about “study”.

“No, no, I didn’t mean to- … They’re gorgeous.” _You’re gorgeous_. Had he already thought that? Maybe.

“Thanks. I’m- … I mean, they should be. I’m an artist.” Gabriel blushed again and scratched his neck. “And I wasn’t staring. At you, earlier. I might have inadvertently caught sight of your form and decided to, um, draw you. That’s why I was, uh, taking measurements. By eye.”

Jack grinned.

“Do I need to undress for this part?”

“No. I mean, it’s not required. And if you did, Amélie would throw you out, probably.”

“Who, the waitress?”

Gabriel nodded, but he was still smiling.

“She and Torb are a bit protective of me.”

“Are you the town darling or something?”

“Something. I don’t live here, I live in LA. But my family is from here originally, so I stop by here once a week.”

“To draw unsuspecting strangers, making them spill their beer.”

“Yeah.” Gabriel had finally stopped rearranging the drawings and pencils, leaving a sketch of the louder Japanese boy chewing on the straw of his milkshake on top. It looked so vivid, so dynamic, Jack almost thought he saw it move. “So, what brings a guy like you to Sand Springs?”

“Oh, well, my bike broke down. So I’m kinda stuck here until tomorrow,” Jack admitted. He tried to take another drink, but found his glass to be empty.

“Where are you from, then? I can’t place your accent,” Gabriel asked, while Jack ordered a coffee from the waitress, who suspiciously eyed their setup.

“Uh, a farmers’ town in Indiana. Near Bloomington.”

“Indiana? Wow, so you’re doing a Route 66 thing, or what?”

“Not really,” Jack shrugged. “Just driving around. I mean I _was_ going to see LA, but then … you know.”

Gabriel hummed and nodded, and when he spoke next, started to doodle on a new piece of paper, almost unconsciously it seemed.

“Lots of people pass through here looking for something. It’s interesting to see. Are you looking for something?”

Jack opened his mouth and almost said “I wasn’t looking in particular, but I found you”. He changed his mind and replied with a simple: “I guess aren’t we all?”

“I suppose.”

Gabriel’s attention drifted closer to his drawing, then, and Jack felt the loss keenly.

“What I mean to say,” he continued, to draw the man’s eyes up to him again, “is that I kinda already found my purpose. So I’m not really looking.”

“Yeah?” Gabriel muttered, still distracted. “What purpose?”

Jack waited for Amélie the waitress to put down his cup of coffee and thanked her again. She still watched him with a furrowed brow. There was no pleasing some people, apparently.

“I joined the Air Force when I was eighteen. Became a pilot, and now I’ve got a full tour in Afghanistan under my belt, with over four hundred flight hours.”

That made Gabriel drop his pencil and look at him wide-eyed.

“Wow. I don’t know whether to be in awe or … I don’t know. Do you really drop bombs and that kind of stuff?”

Jack grimaced. Maybe his career wasn’t something to boast to everyone.

“Well, yeah. I do fly deep strikes. But me and my squad haven’t had any civilian casualties, not under my watch. It happens sometimes, though, I admit that. Bad intel. Bad luck. Bad orders. Bad instincts. But it’s not the only thing we do. We also provide close air support for ground troops, for example, and we protect airspace. Keep others from actually dropping bombs on civilians.”

“So you have dogfights like in the movies?”

“Sometimes. It’s part of maintaining air superiority.”

Gabriel had set aside his drawing things fully now, and leaned forward, enraptured.

“Have you been shot at before?”

“Yeah, lots.” Jack rubbed his neck. “I even wrecked a fighter once. But it was the choice between a hunk of billion dollar metal or me.”

Gabriel smiled.

“I’m glad you chose you, or I wouldn’t get to talk to you now.”

“Well, I’m glad too.”

*

Several hours later Amélie the waitress politely but firmly threw them out. Jack didn’t care; he was slightly inebriated as well as over-caffeinated, and more than a little bit giddy on endorphins. He didn’t know if that was the reason why Gabriel looked even more beautiful than before, or if it was because the man had proven to be an stimulating conversation partner, who genuinely listened and was actually interested in what Jack had to say. Of course, it helped that Gabriel was a colorful figure himself, not too shy to say his piece and put Jack in his place.

“Well, this is me,” Gabriel said once they reached an adorable, red Volkswagen beetle. He was almost successful in hiding his blush. “Why don’t you give me your number? I don’t have a mobile, but maybe we can stay in touch?”

“Oh, do you have to leave?”

“Yes, it’s my sister’s birthday.”

“We could also meet here again tomorrow. I’ll still be here.”

Gabriel hesitated.

“I only make the trip once a week. Usually. And tomorrow is a busy day, I have some work to do on one of my projects that’s due soon, but- …”

“No, no,” Jack interrupted him, only slightly disappointed. After all, Gabriel wanted his number, and that promised … much more. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your schedule.”

The relief on Gabriel’s face was visible.

“Thanks, Jack, you’re a great guy.”

So they exchanged numbers, with the promise to call or write soon, or whenever one was in the vicinity of the other. As Jack watched the most beautiful man in the world drive away in the most adorable little beetle, his heart soared, and he felt strong enough to face anything.

He checked in to Sandy Springs’ only motel, which chipped away at his enthusiasm some. The next blow came when he went by the repair shop, and the cowboy told him the problem was more extensive than anticipated.

No going to LA anytime soon, it looked like. Which also meant a big fat no to seeing Gabriel again.

And though he’d given the man his own number, Gabriel didn’t give Jack his own. Which meant he was stuck here, with no entertainment, and not even the prospect of seeing the beautiful painter again anytime soon.

Frustrated, Jack ordered some pizza to his room, and then spent his night forlornly chewing on the greasy treat, while skipping through the channels on the TV, which somehow seemed to be broadcast straight out of hell or some such. The only three stations that were reliable were some Bible reading channel, a Japanese one, and a channel that played old westerns on repeat. Sadly chewing on his pizza, Jack settled on the latter one, and let the distorted harmonica sounds lull him to sleep.

*

He woke the next day with a horrible pain in the back from sleeping on the lumpy mattress, but thankfully a little bit of stretching and a couple pushups cured that right away. Thinking he deserved to treat himself to some coffee and maybe a family-sized stack of pancakes with unlimited syrup on top, Jack strolled to Sandy’s, and found the exact same setup of people all but nailed to the furniture sitting in the diner’s booths. There was the town drunk. Over there the father of ten, thinking of divorce. The two Japanese boys, gorging themselves on waffles this time. Torbjörn, the cook, gave Jack a loose salute and a cheerful “Hey”. The waitress, Amélie, only pursed her lips and frowned at him.

“Hey, uh, can I get a coffee and some pancakes?”

She sashayed away without a response, nearly slapping him across the face with her perfect ponytail.

Sighing, Jack wondered where to sit, when he spotted the booth where he’d sat with- …

“Hey!” he called out, hurrying over to the familiar, hunched figure of a man with adorable curls leaning over his stack of pencils and papers. “I thought you’d said you only came here once a week – did you miss me that much?”

Gabriel slowly looked up from his drawing – of Torbjörn’s stocky form, his hairy face wonderfully detailed with a large frown – and blinked up at Jack.

“Excuse me,” he said warily, “but do I know you?”

“ _What_?”

Jack stood there gaping, for at least … too long. The confusion in Gabriel’s gorgeous chocolate eyes simmered into annoyance, with a spicy sprinkling of anger.

“If that was supposed to be a pickup line, it was horrible. Go bother someone else, _gringo_.”

“ _What_ ,” Jack repeated, finally finding the controls to his mouth again. “Is this a joke?”

He was about to say more, feeling the numbness of shock make way to genuine hurt and fury. Had Gabriel been leading him on the whole time yesterday? Was this way of rejecting Jack, instead of- …

Before his thoughts could get any further, a strong hand with very, very sharp nails dug into Jack’s bicep, effectively dragging him away from Gabriel and into the kitchen. As he went, Jack saw Gabriel shake his head and rub his temple, as if Jack hadn’t been more than a nuisance.

“What the hell is going on?” Jack demanded to know, ignoring the perfectly manicured finger nearly poking into his eye.

“Gabriel is very special,” Amélie said, hissing though her perfect teeth. “And you will not ruin his happiness. We’re all working hard to accommodate him, and make him feel as comfortable as possible – don’t you dare stomp in like an elephant and ruin it all!”

“What are you talking about? Is he sick?”

Amélie grumbled, easing off him with the claws.

“In a way,” she said reluctantly. “There was … a car accident. A year ago.”

“Oh my god, that’s horrible.”

“Yes. But that’s not all. He was in a coma for a while. And when he woke up … at first no one noticed that something was wrong.” She sighed, crossing her arms. “The next day … he didn’t remember anything. He’d forgotten everything that happened since the day before the accident.”

Shocked, Jack struggled to find words. That meant- …

“He genuinely didn’t remember me just now?”

“Exactly.”

“He doesn’t remember anything that’s happened to him since then?”

“That’s what I said.”

“He thinks it’s the day of the accident. Last year!”

“Yes.”

“Holy crap.” Jack rubbed his face with both hands. “That’s why he came here again today. He comes here every day, and not once a week like he said.”

Amélie nodded.

“And that’s why I think it’s best if you stay away from him. Be nice, but don’t try anything again. You’re just a guy passing through – Gabi doesn’t need the added stress. He deserves to be happy. His short term memory might be lost once he wakes up in the morning, but he’s a good person, like he was before the accident. There’s … a system in place. His family takes care of it, and everyone here in Sand Springs is playing along as well.”

“Playing along?” Jack echoed.

“We’re reenacting the same day, every day. So he doesn’t notice anything is wrong. He comes here in the morning, drinks a coffee, draws some people, and then goes home, where his family takes over.”

“Right, because otherwise … you’d have to break the bad news to him, every day.”

“Does that mean I don’t have to worry about you any longer?”

Jack raised his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry if I caused any trouble. If it’s okay with you, I’ll apologize to Gabriel, and then, uh, go my way.”

“That is … acceptable,” Amélie muttered, eyes narrowed in suspicion again.

Jack only felt a little bit bad for deceiving the waitress. She obviously cared about Gabriel, too, and in a way she was right: he deserved happiness. And yesterday? Jack made Gabriel laugh. In a few days Jack might be gone, back on the road, and then back in his pilot seat. But until then, why not make Gabriel laugh some more. It was not like he was going to miss Jack once he left.

*

Gabriel Reyes was upset. It was his sister’s birthday, a day for celebration and joy. Of course some guy had to come and accost him at Sandy’s, completely ruining his drive to paint today. At least he had baking the birthday cake with his sister and mother to look forward to. Every year they had the tradition to bake Sombra’s special cake, with fresh berries and tons of purple food dye, and the three of them always had lots of fun with it.

As he parked his little red beetle in front of their house, Gabriel could already hear his mother and sister’s voices coming from the kitchen window.

“Hey,” he protested, neatly putting his shoes next to the door. “Did you guys start without me?”

The voices stopped for a moment, and then Gabriel’s mother came around the corner with a soft smile. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and a short, but warm hug.

“Ah, _mijo_ , you’re home. Your sister has to tell you something.”

“What? Did you get a girlfriend, birthday girl?” he teased Sombra, ruffling her hair. She protested, rearranging it in the stylish undercut she liked so much, that showed the purple underneath.

“No, Gabi,” she moaned. “But it’s about my birthday.”

“It’s not cancelled, is it?” he said in mock seriousness.

“No, Gabi, stop it. It’s the cake. I already got one. Remember Alejandra’s mom? The baker?”

Gabriel tried very hard not to let his disappointment show. Baking Sombra’s cake might have been for her benefit mostly, but it was a family tradition.

“It’s alright, I’m sure it’s a delicious cake. But then what am I going to do all afternoon? I thought we’d be busy baking.”

A playful glint appeared in his sister’s eyes. With a flourish, she produced a small bag.

“I want you to make something for me, brother.”

“Make what?” he laughed, peering inside the bag. Two neat balls of purple and pink yarn each were rolled up inside, along with some knitting needles.

“You’re the artist, you figure something out to do with those,” Sombra said.

“Okay, but only if you’ll let me watch you beat your high score on that videogame you bought last week while I knit.”

“Deal!”

So Gabriel spent the afternoon knitting his sister a purple sweater with a pink skull symbol on the chest, while she whiled away the time on her console. The beeping, bouncing and whistling noises were funny to listen to, but by the time Gabriel was half done and their mother was calling them to dinner, Sombra still hadn’t managed to beat her high score.

“Try again tomorrow,” he told her, kissing her hair. “I’ll have to finish your sweater tomorrow as well.”

For some reason she was a little subdued during dinner, but she did perk up when they brought up the blueberry cake Alejandra’s mom had baked her. Gabriel and their mother sang her happy birthday, and she blew out the candles like a champ.

“Now, to open your presents,” their mother said, producing a basket full of items wrapped in purple and pink paper. Sombra opened Gabriel’s two gifts first, a pair of nice headphones she tried on right away, and tickets to his art exhibit in a few weeks.

“We can go and look at the paintings together, and you can criticize them all you want,” he promised. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek in thanks.

Their mother had bought Sombra a new videogame Gabriel wasn’t even aware had already come out, and a couple of new ear studs.

“They’re awesome, mama,” she said. “Your gifts are awesome, too, Gabi, don’t you worry.”

Later, they settled in the living room, eating the delicious blueberry cake and watching a movie of Sombra’s choice. Gabriel hadn’t seen this one yet, and actually thought he distinctly remembered that it was to come out in a few months – but then, his sister liked downloading things from the Internet before they were meant to be released. And since it was her birthday, he let it slide.

“I actually liked that one,” he told her as the credits rolled.

“I’m glad, Gabi,” Sombra replied, uncharacteristically serious.

He prepared himself to go to bed afterwards, and said goodnight to his sister and mother when they told him they were going to stay up for a little while longer. Half an hour later he slept happily and soundly upstairs in his bed, unaware of his mother refueling his little red beetle, washing the clothes he’d worn that day, and putting the batter for a blueberry cake in the oven. Meanwhile, Sombra reset the last save on her console, repacked her brother’s birthday gifts, and cried as she unraveled the partial sweater her brother had knit for her.

*

The next few days Jack spent honing his rusty flirting skills. There used to be a time no woman or man could resist his focused Midwestern charm – earning him the nickname ‘Romeo’, which was now his actual callsign whenever he and his squadron flew – but it seemed as if Gabriel was an especially resistant creature. Some days Jack got him to smile and laugh with just some corny joke or a wink. Other days … Well, suffice to say, Jack got the evil eye from Amélie a lot.

“I told you to leave him alone,” she snarled one day.

“That’s not what you said,” Jack objected. “You told me to be nice, not try, and play along. I can’t help it if he thinks my musculature is worthy of a drawing. It would be rude not to take a seat and talk to him, wouldn’t it?”

So Amélie grudgingly let Jack do his thing. Which not even he was sure what it was.

Was he pursuing Gabriel? Was he seriously trying to date a person that thought they were meeting him for the first time every day? Was he toying with the beautiful artist’s heart? Was he being mean?

But there was just something about Gabriel that wouldn’t let Jack stop doing the same thing again and again. Every morning he came to the diner and tried his luck, feeling accomplished on days that ended with Gabriel reluctant to leave, either asking Jack for his number or waiting for Jack to offer it. And on days Gabriel drove away in his little red beetle, angry and offended, Jack only felt more invigorated, determined to do better the next time.

But then, one time, he went to the diner, and got stopped just outside the building by a young Latina with a purple dyed undercut and a mean stare.

“Hey, you. _Gringo_ ,” she said, grabbing his elbow.

“Ouch, what the hell? Let me go.”

“No, you listen to me,” she hissed. “Amélie told me about you. You’re not gonna hurt my brother, alright? You stop what you’re doing right now, or so God help me- …”

“Whoah, hey, no need for threats, _chica_ ,” Jack retorted, twisting his arm out of her grip.

“If you know anything about my brother, you know he can’t ever have a normal relationship, if that’s what you’re after. And if you want something else, you’re an asshole.”

“Look, I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just like talking to him, alright?” Jack admitted.

The girl snorted, rolling her eyes impressively

“Fine. But I’m keeping an eye on you. Oh, and you leave him alone today, I wanna hang out with my brother. _Hasta la vista_.”

That day Jack didn’t get a chance to talk to Gabriel, as he was preoccupied with his sister. Amélie and Torbjörn played along, bringing out a huge blueberry cake for them, and everyone sang Happy Birthday. It was kind of sweet to see, but Jack also noticed the sad strain in the girl’s eyes whenever Gabriel wasn’t looking. To think that they did this every day, just to keep him happy and safe – Jack respected and admired that. But he still thought that he had a place in that artificial time loop as well. Small, and perhaps short-lived, but a place nonetheless.

*

One day the cowboy mechanic called Jack, telling him his bike was done.

Sadly, Jack told himself he had to move on. And it wasn’t like Gabriel was going to miss him, right? No one would miss him, here in Sand Springs. Amélie would be glad to see him gone, even. He could drive away and move on. But something held him back.

“One last date, Romeo,” he told his reflection in the mirror as he artfully tousled his hair.

It went horribly. Which was to say, it wasn’t a date at all.

The second Jack stepped into the diner, smile and a smooth one-liner on his lips, Gabriel was jumping out of his booth with an enraged expression on his face.

“Hey, you asshole!” he shouted and stormed at Jack.

“Whoah, hey, I haven’t- …”

Gabriel jostled him as he ran past him and out of the diner.

“What?”

Confused, he turned around and watched as Gabriel stormed across the parking lot, swearing a blue streak. He stopped in front of his little red beetle, arms crossed and scowling at the police officer apparently writing him a parking ticket.

“Oh no,” Amélie muttered, running outside with long strides.

Sensing that something very wrong had happened, Jack followed her. Behind him, other patrons streamed out of the diner as well, to look at the spectacle unfolding.

“I’m sorry, sir, but your tags are invalid.”

“What? That can’t be they don’t expire until November.”

“Yeah, November last year.”

“No, no, that can’t be right,” Gabriel protested.

“Officer,” Amélie butted in, trying to come between the police officer and Gabriel. “Excuse me, but there surely has been a misunderstanding, let me just- …”

“I’m sorry,” the officer said, handing Gabriel a ticket.

“I won’t pay that, this is ridiculous. It’s not even June yet, look, here.”

Jack watched, horrified, as Gabriel grabbed a bystander’s newspaper, jabbing his finger at the front page.

“Look, here it says _May_ \- … May 2017? But- …”

“Gabriel,” Amélie sighed.

“No, no, no. No, that can’t be right. It’s May 2016. Not 17! Amélie, what is going on here?”

Jack had to mutely watch as Amélie calmly and gently told Gabriel that the police officer was right. His tags were expired. It was May of 2017, not 2016. There was an entire year of his life that Gabriel couldn’t remember, and perhaps it was best he go back inside, she was going to call his family and ask them to pick him up.

At first, Gabriel seemed stunned, clutching the newspaper to his chest as if it could contain the shock and pain reflected in his eyes. Jack wanted to reach out and hold him, but he knew it would be unwelcome. They hadn’t even met properly today yet.

But then Gabriel growled and shouldered past them, got into his little red beetle, and drove away at what had to be miles over the speed limit.

Amélie cursed.

“Jack, you have to go after him.”

“Oh shit,” he said. “I don’t know where he lives.”

“Hurry up, drive after him!”

Scrambling, Jack put on his motor jacket and helmet, thanking whatever God there was that his bike was repaired. And he was definitely faster than a Volkswagen beetle.

His heart hammered in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him from the abrupt readjustment, switching from the slow pace he’d lived at for the past weeks to suddenly flying along the street on a streamlined machine. Half his mind had to concentrate on not crashing the bike, since he had to press the speed limit in order to catch up with Gabriel, but the other half of his mind was worried. He was worried Gabriel would cause an accident, or react irrationally. He was worried how his family was going to handle this, and if there was anything Jack could do.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the taillights of the little red beetle, Jack didn’t let himself get distracted when they finally entered LA itself. Gabriel clearly knew every corner and side street, challenging Jack to keep up. After he pulled up in front of a small house in a middle-class looking neighborhood, Gabriel got out with a scowl on his face, slamming his car’s door and giving Jack a mean glare.

“Mama? Sombra?” he shouted, storming into the house with a last look over his shoulder at Jack.

Unsure what to do now, Jack took off his helmet and approached the house, seeing that the door was open. He could hear three sets of voices speaking loudly in English and Spanish mixed in between. As he peered inside, Jack met a familiar girl’s eyes. She sighed and put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.

“Wait a second, I need to deal with this.”

“Yeah, about that guy,” Gabriel growled, following his sister to the door. He filled the frame quite nicely, looking down at Jack with an intimidating glower. “He followed me here from Sandy’s, no idea who- …”

“It’s okay,” his sister, Sombra, said. “We’ll explain everything.” And then, to Jack: “Come in.”

Squeezing past them both, Jack saluted awkwardly.

“Uh, hi. I’m Jack.”

“Someone please explain what the fuck is going on,” Gabriel demanded, looking between Sombra and Jack with folded arms.

There seemed to be a system in place even for this. An older woman, probably the siblings’ mother, handed Gabriel a folder.

“What’s this?”

“Gabi,” she said gently, “you were in an accident. May last year. You injured your head, and it has affected your memory.”

“What?” Gabriel whispered incredulously. He unceremoniously dropped to the floor, opening the folder with wide eyes.

Even from a respectful distance, Jack saw the pictures inside, showing a badly injured Gabriel lying in a hospital bed with a bandaged head. The real Gabriel traced a finger over the photograph, touching his head with the other hand.

“I … can feel the scar,” he muttered.

There were more papers inside that Gabriel leafed through, but he eventually returned to the photographs.

“So I just forgot everything that’s happened?” he asked.

“Yes. Every day you wake up thinking it’s the day of your accident, My birthday last year,” Sombra replied quietly, settling next to her brother with crossed legs.

“But it _is_. It _was_. You didn’t say anything when I wished you happy birthday this morning. I remember that much.”

“Because it’s easier for you if we play along.”

Jack saw Gabriel wipe his cheeks.

“I don’t know if I like that. Is there really nothing that can be done about my memory? Meds I can take? Therapy?”

Sombra and her mother both shook their heads.

“Perhaps it would be best if we talked to Dr. Ziegler,” their mother suggested. “We’ve done this a few times. I’m sure she’d be happy to explain it to you again.”

Gabriel barked out a hollow laugh.

“Again. How many times has this happened already? That I found out?”

“A couple times.”

“Okay. So who’s that guy then.”

Jack jumped, suddenly the focus of three pairs of eyes.

“You two are kinda dating,” Sombra drawled, grinning lazily.

“Well, I try to flirt with you sometimes, but of course we start new every day,” Jack mumbled, rubbing his neck. “But yeah, I’ve given you my number over a dozen times now, and we’ve sort of gone on even more dates already?”

“Oh wow.” Gabriel’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you bother, if you know I’ll just forget anyway.”

Here was the big question. Why was Jack doing this? Why was he here, getting mixed up in this family’s personal business like he had any right? Originally he had taken a fancy to Gabriel because of his beauty and wit; thought no further than what he wanted and what he could give. He could have ended it the moment Amélie told him about Gabriel’s condition. He could have stayed behind today, remained with the others at the diner and let the Reyes family sort this out amongst themselves.

Jack decided to be truthful, no matter how it scared himself to admit it.

“I care about you,” he said.

Gabriel was silent for a while, contemplating. His sister and mother hovered nearby, waiting as well. Jack watched Gabriel’s fingers toy with the somewhat frayed edges of the folder that contained the whole horrible truth of his accident and the consequences of it.

“I think I’d like to talk to this Dr. Ziegler,” he finally said. “And I’d like you to come with me. All of you.”

*

Dr. Ziegler was a surprisingly young and beautiful woman that was even kinder than she was radiant. There was not a single moment Gabriel felt like she was patronizing him or impatient about having to explain his condition for what had to be the umpteenth time. She showed him his brain scans, which highlighted the damage his brain had suffered, and talked him through the symptoms of his condition. Basically, he remembered everything up to the night before the accident as any other person would – but every day hence he forgot what happened since then when he went to sleep.

“And there is no treatment? Therapy, surgery, or medicine I could take?” he asked.

“No, Gabriel, I’m afraid that you will have to live with your condition for the rest of your life. Your family has developed quite the regime, I am told, and so far it seems to have worked just fine.”

“But what about in a few years? What if he wakes up, and he’s aged ten years? Or what if they move to another house?”

Gabriel frowned, looking at the stranger – Jack – that voiced these questions. He’d secretly harbored them himself, but bringing up the monumental effort his family had gone through to even keep up the illusion of normalcy for the last year … Gabriel was hesitant. Not so this man.

He was handsome, Gabriel had to admit that. And there was a certain look in his incredibly blue eyes that told him that what Sombra said was true. They _were_ seeing each other, in some convoluted, harebrained way. Gabriel was sure of that. There was something about this Jack that kept him from being his usual, caustic self when faced with men of Jack’s ilk. Men as white, blonde, attractive and muscular usually had an air about themselves that made Gabriel livid. But with Jack … it was as if something just _clicked_. Was it because some instinctual part of him remembered Jack, remembered that liquid, warm feeling in his belly he got whenever their eyes met?

He didn’t even know this man. What was his laugh like? How did he take his coffee? What did he do for a living? Where was he from?

“Perhaps you would like to meet Ten Seconds Lúcio?” Dr. Ziegler said, interrupting Gabriel’s train of thought.

She led the four of them through a room full of what looked like inpatients of the institute – drawing, painting, playing card games, watching TV. Some of them were calm and collected. Others looked confused. A few were rambling, wandering restlessly.

“Lúcio,” Dr. Ziegler said gently, stepping next to a teenage boy that had been busy shuffling cards.

“Oh hey, doc!” the boy crowed enthusiastically, gracing them all with the largest grin Gabriel had ever seen. “Oh, did you bring some guests?”

“Yes, Lúcio. These are Rosa, Sombra and Gabriel. And this is Jack.”

“Hullo,” he replied, looking down at the cards in his hand for a second. They danced in an entrancing rhythm, fluttering and whirling like living things. Then he looked up again. “Oh! Doc, I didn’t see you there. And who’s this?”

Astonished, Gabriel watched him greet Jack again. For the second time. He grinned just as broadly as before, and was just as enthusiastic and polite. But it was very clear he remembered none of them.

“Hey there, and who might you be?”

“I think we’ve seen enough,” Gabriel’s mother, who had been very quiet so far, muttered. “It was lovely to meet you, Lúcio.”

“Wow, how did you guess my name?”

Gabriel wondered about this boy for the entire drive home, letting his head fall against the cool glass of the window. He had seemed so happy, though he had to have no idea where he was, who he was with, and how he got there at all times. So trusting and open. He didn’t think he could be like that. His first reaction, today, upon finding out there was something wrong with what he believed to be his reality, was anger. Fury, even. Not even directed at anyone in particular, but it was just there, bubbling to the surface. No, Gabriel couldn’t live like Lúcio. But he also had more chances at a somewhat normal life than the boy did. At least he got to live a full day before forgetting. And maybe there were ways around that. Now that he knew.

When they arrived home, Gabriel distractedly excused himself, wanting to get this exhausting day behind him as soon as possible. But then he remembered. Once he fell asleep, his slate would get wiped clean. However, there might be something he could do about that. Someone else could remember for him. So, on a whim, he turned back around.

“Jack?”

The man, who had been shuffling awkwardly on his feet next to the car, looked up at him, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yes, Gabe?”

He grimaced.

“Don’t call me that just yet. But … Thank you for coming along and being here with me. I suppose I’ll be seeing you tomorrow? Same time, same place?”

The hope bloomed into happiness, so bright that Gabriel thought a second sun must have risen. This man … There really was something about him.

“Sure. I’ll see you at Sandy’s.”

“Maybe we could talk about flowers tomorrow.”

“Flowers?”

Gabriel bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. Jack looked very cute when he was confused. Like a puppy.

“Yeah. I like flowers. Roses, especially. Black roses.”

The smile on Jack’s lips softened into something entirely else, and Gabriel prayed it was too dark to see the blush spreading quickly across his cheeks.

“I’ll be sure to remember that, Gabriel.”

“Good night.”

“Night. And see you tomorrow.”

*

Jack, Sombra and Rosa, the siblings’ mother – who very much insisted that Jack call her by her first name – spent nearly the whole night working on a new project. Sombra was responsible for the whole technical aspect of it. The recording camera, cutting the footage together, adding some peppy music she assured Jack Gabriel loved, putting it on an USB stick. Rosa kept them fed and hydrated through it all, and made sure Gabriel stayed asleep through their shenanigans, while also using her contacts to hunt down a bouquet of black roses.

It was going to be a nice surprise, or so Jack hoped. If only he could stop stuttering like a fool, or keep himself from giggling whenever Sombra made a face at him.

“Good morning, Gabriel,” he said, trying to keep his eyes trained on the camera, “I know this must all come as real surprise to you. The accident, and all that you went through the last year. And you must be wondering who this guy is, telling you all of this. Well, my name is Jack Morrison, I’m a pilot in the US Air Force currently on leave, and we’ve met at Sandy’s diner every day for the last few weeks. We’re … kinda dating? And I’ve gotten to know you quite a bit, but as you meet me for the first time every morning, you are at a disadvantage. Aware of this, Sombra – who is filming this, by the way – has made a list of fifteen questions she’s going to ask me now. I don’t know what she’s going to ask me, but let’s hope it will be illuminating to you.”

With these words he nodded at Sombra, who pulled out a sheet of paper.

“What’s your favorite color?” she asked.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Sombra groaned. “Gabe’s an artist, and he kinda judges people by their fave color.”

“Oh.” Jack swallowed, wracking his brain for a good reply. “I guess mine is blue. Like, the color of the sky. It’s where I spend most of my time, when I fly, and all I see is the blue above, and white clouds below.”

“Nice. Alright, what’s your favorite childhood memory?”

“Umm, probably drinking lemonade with my brothers, hiding out behind the silo. Oh, I grew up on a farm, by the way. And I’ve got three brothers: Josiah, Jared, and Jacob. Don’t laugh. I’m the second oldest, after Joe.”

“Is there something you regret, and if so, what?”

Jack rubbed his chin in thought.

“Not really. All the big decisions in my life I’ve made knowing what I wanted, and so far it’s turned out fine. I haven’t thought about this much, but I guess if I were unhappy about something I’d know, right?”

“Okay. When was your last relationship, and how did it end?”

“Right down to business, huh?” Jack grinned wryly at Sombra, who only regarded him seriously until he sobered. “I have to be honest and say that … I haven’t really been the longstanding relationship kinda guy. I’ve had a lot of girlfriends and boyfriends both, but they usually didn’t last much longer than a few months. The last girlfriend I had was us trying whether or not we were couple material, but it turns out we’re just great friends. We separated amiably. Her name is Ana, and she’s a pilot in my squad as well.”

“What’s your most prized possession?”

“Oh. Difficult question. I don’t actually own much. Like, the motorbike I drove here with is a rental. I’m pretty proud of my fighter, an F-16 Fighting Falcon, but I obviously don’t own it. If I had to pick something, though, I’d say, uh, my comic book collection. I own some first editions.”

“Do you believe in God?”

“Wow, geez, you’re not holding back, are you?” Jack snorted.

“I have a responsibility to uphold,” Sombra replied, sounding serious, but her eyes glinted in mirth.

“So, I guess I believe in some sort of higher power? I don’t adhere to a particular religion’s practices, though I was raised Jewish.”

“What’s your favorite song?”

“’Ain’t No Grave’ by Johnny Cash.”

“If you could choose a superpower, what would it be?”

“Hmm … super speed? I could get a lot more done in a day, or be as fast as when I am in my jet. Plus, I like the Flash.”

Sombra gasped.

“This isn’t a Gabi question, but a personal one for me,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “DC or Marvel? Star Wars or Star Trek?”

Jack grinned.

“That’s easy. Both of course. All of them.”

“Nerd. Okay, let’s move on. Is there a place in the world you’d like to visit?”

“I haven’t been anywhere really tropical yet, like Hawaii, or Brazil.”

“Important question now, Jack, take your time replying,” Sombra said. “What’s your opinion on pineapple as a pizza topping?”

For a second, Jack was stunned into silence, before he burst into laughter.

“Oh man. Really?”

“Yeah. Choose wisely, _gringo_.”

“Okay. Um, honestly, I’ll eat it? But it’s not my preferred topping. I’m more of the extra meaty pepperoni variety.”

“Of course. Beefcake like you,” Sombra muttered, and squinted at her notes. “Do you own any pets?”

“Not personally. We had dogs on our farm, though, and cats. Still do. And geese. And chickens, and ducks, and cows, and a few horses, and bees.”

“Bees?”

“Yeah, we make our own honey.”

“Nice. What’s your comfort food for when you feel bad or get sick?”

“If I’m at home, my mom’s meatloaf. Otherwise, anything sweet, really. I’m partial to salted caramel ice cream though.”

“Are you an optimist, a pessimist, or a realist?”

“Optimist.”

“Do you believe in second chances?”

“Sure. I think that people can achieve much and even change their ways if someone believes in them. And just because someone fucks up once, doesn’t mean they’re irredeemable,” Jack said.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

Jack laughed.

“I actually already told you this, Gabriel, but I wrecked a billion dollar fighter once. I don’t regret it, though.”

Sombra grinned, giving him a thumbs up.

“Okay, Jack, that’s it.”

“What, really? That was fast.”

She snorted.

“Your part, maybe. I’ve still got to cut it all together.”

Jack looked at the time on his phone and yawned in a Pavlovian response at the number he saw there.

“Man, it’s that weird time when you don’t know if it’s late or early in the night. Do you guys mind if I crash on your couch? I swear I’ll be gone once Gabriel wakes up.”

“Be our guest. Mama’s already fed you her chili, so you’re practically family,” Sombra mumbled dismissively, already wrangling several cords alongside the camera and a laptop.

After watching her for a while, Jack set an alarm on his phone, and settled on the couch. Today had been a very long day, and though he was excited for the surprise they’d prepared for Gabriel, he fell asleep quickly.

*

There was a surprise waiting for Gabriel when he returned home from Sandy’s. A tall, blonde guy with what looked like a … bouquet of black roses?

“Excuse me, Gabriel Reyes?” he asked.

Stunned, he could only nod.

“These are for you.”

“Wow. They’re beautiful.” Gabriel took the bouquet, burying his nose in the velvety, black petals, inhaling their fragrance.

“This is for you, as well.”

“Really? Who from?”

“A secret admirer,” the man replied, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

Before Gabriel could say more, Sombra stepped out of the house, regarding him with a very similar look. This didn’t bode well.

“What do you have there, Gabi?”

“Roses, obviously, and …” He looked at the envelope that came with them, feeling something small and solid inside. “A USB stick?”

“Well, maybe delivery guy can help you find out what’s on the stick,” Sombra suggested, holding the door open for them.

Gabriel threw ‘delivery guy’ a glance, catching him and Sombra smile at each other. Was this a prank? Some elaborate setup?

“Happy birthday, by the way,” he muttered, kissing his sister’s cheek in passing. She snorted.

“Thanks, bro. You can use my laptop if you want.”

Now that was mighty suspicious. Sombra never let anyone touch her baby, least of all Gabriel. He narrowed his eyes at her to let her know he was onto her, but she only shrugged and directed him to the kitchen table. Sure enough, her laptop sat there, as if she’d known this would happen.

“If this is some kind of jump scare, I swear- …”

“Just watch the vid. Please.”

Grumbling, Gabriel puttered about for a little bit, finding a vase for the roses. He couldn’t help but stop and touch their soft petals every once in a while, marveling at the texture. As he filled a vase with water, his mother shuffled into the kitchen as well, wordlessly joining the small crowd watching him.

With no small amount of trepidation, Gabriel sat, plugged in the USB stick, and opened the only file there. A video file.

 _Good morning_ , the screen said, and from the speakers blasted Kelly Clarkson’s “Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You)”. A short montage followed, of what seemed like newspaper clippings, short newsreels, and recordings. Images of Istanbul, showing rioters. Something called “Brexit” that seemed to have something to do with the EU. Donald Trump … winning the US presidential election? A short montage of a movie called “La La Land” being announced as winning Best Picture at the Oscars, but then it turned out that actually “Moonlight” won. Several montages of protests, riots, and what looked like the aftermath of terror attacks all across the globe. Snippets from a “Wonder Woman” movie?

Then the images cut off, and the screen said: _You can’t remember these things because …_ And it cut to a photograph of Gabriel himself, lying in a hospital bed. His head was bandaged, and there were bruises on his face. Numbly, he touched his scalp, finding a bumpy scar there.

He looked up, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, meeting his mother’s concerned look.

“ _You’re on_ ,” came Sombra’s voice, but from the speakers of the laptop.

There, on the screen, was the delivery guy. Grinning bashfully, broad shoulders hunched, he started talking. His name was Jack Morrison. US Air Force pilot. He was dating Gabriel. He liked the color blue, and he liked lemonade and salted caramel ice cream. He was an optimist that believed in giving people second chances, and believed in a higher power. He was somewhat reckless, but also honest, and kind of a nerd.

The video ended with a short bit where Sombra and their mother said that they loved him very much, no matter what happened, and that despite it all, they were glad that he was still there with them, alive and happy.

There was a small part of Gabriel that wished this was a joke. An elaborate prank Sombra came up with to get back at him for that one time he mixed yellow instead of purple color into her hair dye. But there was sincerity in every word spoken here. And without turning around or looking up, he knew that his family was standing behind him with the same sad, but loving smiles on their faces that they wore in the video.

And Jack.

“So,” Gabriel sighed. “How many times have we done this already?”

“This is the first time, Gabi.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Until now … we tried to make it seem like nothing was amiss,” Sombra said. “Sometimes you’d find out, and we’d deal with that. But we tried to keep you in blissful ignorance of your condition. Recently we have started to question this strategy.”

At the last part, her eyes wandered to Jack.

“And he and I have really been dating?” he asked his family, only relaxing once both his sister and mother nodded.

“How does that even work.”

“We make do,” Jack piped up, looking nervous and determined at the same time. Gabriel regarded him for a few moments, and then made a snap decision.

“Come with me,” he said, beckoning the handsome stranger. He led him to his car, waiting until he folded his tall, broad form into the small interior.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Jack asked, sounding more humorous than scared.

“I want to show you something. Let’s hope it’s still as I remember.” He paused. “After all, it’s been a year.”

Gabriel watched Jack out of the corner of his eye, expecting a pitying look, but the blonde only nodded, understanding, and smiled.

The drive there was quiet, spent mostly with Gabriel concentrating on the traffic, and Jack giving him some breathing space. He appreciated that. Whether or not this was due to experience, Gabriel wondered what Jack wanted. Was he always this accommodating to Gabriel? Though Sombra’s fifteen questions helped, they didn’t tell Gabriel how to treat Jack. Did he like listening more than talking? Would he appreciate what Gabriel wanted to show him? Did he like surprises?

Gabriel wordlessly parked his car once they reached their destination, and didn’t wait for Jack to follow him, somehow knowing he was right behind him like a sixth sense.

“Oh,” Gabriel muttered, rounding the corner.

Stretched out in front of him were the walls of a dead end. The last he remembered, he had been working on painting this mural; the illusion of being able to continue walking, but it was the Champs-Élysées in Paris. He’d started with the perspective work, and had begun outlining the buildings and the street.

There was nothing left of it. Someone had painted it all a sickly orange, probably to fit with the rest of the building’s color scheme.

“It’s gone, isn’t it.”

Gabriel turned around, mutely observing the regretful look on Jack’s face. He was staring at the walls as if he could see what had been lost. As if he were able to look beneath the garish orange, and perceive Gabriel’s vision.

His heart skipped a beat.

“They must have decommissioned the work after my accident,” he said after a while.

“What a shame.”

Gabriel watched, throat clogging, as Jack slowly approached the walls, touching them gently with his fingertips. For a moment, Gabriel could see his painting there, surrounding Jack, as if he were standing in Paris.

“I wish I’d met you one day before my accident.”

Jack turned around, blue eyes blazing. He didn’t smile, but Gabriel felt it anyways, like the warm rays of a rising sun.

“Me too.”

When Gabriel then turned back to his destroyed project, the bare, orange walls, hope bloomed in his chest. Hope, that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a lost cause, despite his condition. That maybe, he too could have a normal life – resume his projects, maybe even find love. That there were ways around his damaged temporal lobe.

*

It was far into the early hours of a beautiful summer night, and Gabriel was fighting not to fall asleep just yet. Tapping the end of his pen against his chin, he stared at the empty pages of his journal. Yet all he could focus on was the light snoring coming from the bed behind him.

 _Dear journal_ , he thought. _I just had sex with a stranger, except apparently he’s my boyfriend. I just can’t remember him, just like I can’t remember the past year of my life._

He shook his head. Sure, this is what happened, but neither the fact that he’d slept with Jack nor the revelation of his damaged temporal lobe were what was bothering him. He wasn’t afraid of his feelings for a man he had, for all intents and purposes, known for less than twenty-four hours.

It was something Jack said, and Sombra mentioned in passing. One tiny tidbit of information that he remembered for now, but which would be erased from his memory come morning.

Jack’s leave was ending.

For the last hour or so, since Jack fell asleep, Gabriel had re-watched the “Good morning” video at least three times, and leafed through his journal twice. It mentioned Jack’s job a few times, referenced his shore leave, and it even said when he would have to go back to flying planes in a warzone eventually. Nowhere, though, had he found his own thoughts on the matter.

 _Dear journal_ , he thought. _I don’t know what I fear more: the prospect of Jack forgetting about me before I forget about him, or the thought of waking up one day, watching the video, and not caring about Jack’s absence at all._

He turned around in his seat, quietly observing the peaceful rise and fall of Jack’s chest as he lay there, tangled in Gabriel’s sheets, his face mushed into Gabriel’s pillow, his skin bearing Gabriel’s markings. This man had persisted, managing not only to win over the Reyes family, but to win Gabriel’s heart. Again, and again, every single day.

He had taken Gabriel to see Amélie, Torbjörn and Jesse in Sand Springs today, sacrificing a precious day of his limited time in the US to see Gabriel properly reunited with some of his best friends. Torb had been the cook at Sandy’s since he could remember, and Gabriel got Amélie the job as waitress when she was between gigs. That she was still there, refusing to set foot on a stage as long as Gabriel needed it, slaving away every day to be there for him? Her job was meant to be temporary, until she found a new dancing company. And yet she sacrificed a year of her career to protect him.

Jesse, too, had apparently taken over a repair shop in Sand Springs, to keep a secret eye on Gabriel and help with the maintenance of his car. There was something else, involving Jack and a certain motorbike, but Gabriel was too relieved to see Jesse again to question the two men.

All of these people sacrificed so much for Gabriel. Because they all loved him.

 _Dear journal_ , he thought. _Do I hurt the man I’m falling for before he can hurt me, or do I allow him to make us both suffer?_

Jack’s snoring stopped for a moment, and he stretched out a searching arm, patting the bed cover. Watching breathlessly, Gabriel sat as still and quiet as he could. After Jack’s hand met no resistance, he curled into a ball, turned around, and fell back asleep.

Jack was a good man. He was sweet and funny, and he had been infinitely kind to Gabriel. He deserved all the best in the world. Gabriel just wasn’t sure that the best included him, and all the drawbacks that came with his disability.

He turned back to his journal, taking a deep breath.

 _Dear journal_ , he thought. _I’ve made a decision. I know the others won’t like it. But I’d like you to help me remember why I have chosen to do this. At least until it’s time to forget about that too._

*

Gabriel buried his toes in the sand and took a deep breath of the fresh, ocean air. It was quite cool now that the sun had set, but there was a leather jacket slung around his shoulders that didn’t belong to him, and a warm, calloused hand holding his. Logically speaking, he should have been as calm as the man standing next to him, peacefully looking out to the sea.

“Hey,” he muttered, relishing the flutter in his stomach, when Jack turned around to look at him with luminous eyes.

“Hey,” he replied, grinning. Then he leaned in and squeezed Gabriel’s hand. “You … You look beautiful. I’d like to kiss you.”

For a split second he felt elated. A fresh thrill sending little shocks all over his skin, making him hypersensitive to all the places the leather jacket touched him; all the places Jack’s gaze caressed. And then his heart seized, and he felt like crying.

“I think I’d like you to kiss me, too.”

Gabriel leaned into the kiss, relishing the novelty of it. Rationally, he knew they must have kissed before – there were journal entries about it, for one – but it still felt like the first time. Jack’s lips were slightly chapped, but he was gentle, almost reverent. As if it felt like the first time to him as well.

“Thank you,” Jack mumbled after pulling away.

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” Gabriel quipped.

“No. Because I’m the lucky guy getting to be with you, even though I understand that it has to be difficult for you.”

Gabriel saw the adoration and happiness in Jack’s eyes then, and nearly buckled under the weight of his guilt. Because of this, he knew he had to do it.

“Jack,” he said. “There is something I want to talk to you about.”

He must have felt Gabriel’s seriousness, for the smile dropped from Jack’s lips, and his shoulders squared.

“Sure. Anything you like.”

“That’s the thing,” Gabriel sighed. “I mean … I guess, what I’m trying to say is … I am very grateful for what you are doing for me every day. And I feel that I am very lucky to have you here, with me.”

“Thanks?” Jack chuckled nervously. “I feel a ‘but’ coming. And not the sexy kind either.”

Gabriel snorted and rolled his eyes before sobering again.

“Yeah. But. I am sure you are aware that you are leaving soon. In three days, I believe.”

“Oh. Yes, that’s true. Did you want to know what me and Sombra had planned for that? Because she says she can set up something like a chat room, where we could privately write and talk to each other – though I’ll have to warn you that- …”

“Jack.”

“... I get very little re- … Oh. Sorry. What were you going to say?”

“Jack. I think it would be best if we broke up.”

There was a beat of silence, and Gabriel withdrew his hand from Jack’s grip, unable to bear physical contact now that he’d said it.

“What? Why?”

“Because this isn’t fair,” Gabriel said, perhaps too forcefully. “This isn’t fair to me. Do you know when you’ll come back? For how long am I going to wake up every morning, and not only learn that my brain is damaged, but also that I have a boyfriend, who isn’t even here with us. I don’t want that. I’d rather forget.”

“You would rather- …?”

There it was. Gabriel turned half away, bracing himself for the words he knew were coming. How dare he refuse Jack’s kindness. How dare he inconvenience someone who only had his best interests at heart. He knew those words were true – Jack didn’t deserve this.

“Okay.”

Baffled, he looked at Jack anyway. What he saw there wasn’t anger. His face was carefully blank, though he had a smile on his lips.

“What?” Gabriel blurted out.

“You’re- … You’re right. I’m not being fair to you. I’d never want to hurt you, and me going away … I knew it was going to be hard. Not for me, but for you. And if it is your decision, if you want me to leave you alone because you’ll be happier? Gabriel, that’s the only thing I want. For you to be happy.” Jack visibly braced himself, raising his chin and squaring his shoulders. “What can I do to help?”

Gabriel nearly broke down then. For a second he thought he couldn’t go through with this. Why did Jack have to be so stubbornly, infuriatingly supportive?

Instead, he pulled out the journal he’d kept in his pocket.

“I’ve been keeping a diary of sorts, because sometimes the video felt … like someone is telling me about my life, and that way I could read my own thoughts.” He waited for Jack to nod. “So I want you to help me destroy it.”

Jack was silent for a while, staring at the crappy little notebook Gabriel must have bought himself in a hurry. It said “My Diary” on the front, with a red glittery heart. It looked very innocuous for something … so important.

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

Gabriel released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

“How do you want to do it?”

Embarrassed, Gabriel rubbed his neck and vaguely waved the journal in the air.

“You know, I didn’t really make plans. That’s kinda hard to do if you don’t know what you were thinking most of the time.”

“Well, any ideas?”

“We could burn it, I guess. Do you have a lighter?”

Though he patted his pockets, Jack grimaced and said: “That sounds a bit over the top dramatic, doesn’t it?”

“Hey, I’m a dramatic person.”

“That’s true. Or we could … tear out the pages and … throw them in the water?”

Both of them shifted to look at the ocean stretching out in front of them. In the darkness, it seemed even vaster than during the day, and at the same time, it felt less distant. Gabriel looked at Jack, who looked back at him. Without saying anything, the both bent over to roll up the legs of their pants. And then, hesitantly, they stepped into the water.

The first wave rolling in was already high enough to splash up Gabriel’s legs anyway, no matter how careful he was, and he heard Jack splutter at the unexpected cold. But he was determined, and waded further in.

“Want to do the honors?” he said, holding out the journal to Jack.

“No,” he shook his head, only visible as a golden halo lit up by the distant lights of LA. “It’s yours. You should start.”

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel opened the journal on the first page, looking down on the familiar script and the unfamiliar words. An entry about wanting to keep his own diary. As he released his breath, he ripped it out.

“How do I- …?” He sighed. He didn’t care about this piece of paper. Not really. It was like he hadn’t written it. And this was exactly the feeling he wanted to avoid – he didn’t want to start thinking about Jack like he now thought about this journal entry. Jack should be cherished. And Gabriel couldn’t do it.

With resolve, he crumpled the page in one hand and flung it out to sea.

“Did that feel good?” Jack asked quietly.

“Yes.” He nodded, determined. “Yes. It felt good.”

“Maybe I should try it.”

And so they passed the journal between them, each taking a turn to tear out a page – sometimes two or more – to throw them away. At first, the waves brought some of them back, and they made a sport at reaching to grab them first and fling them back out. No one kept count, but with each throw, Gabriel felt a bit better.

He loved this. Spending time with Jack. They were laughing and moving in sync, sometimes touching each other with cold, wet hands, or watching each other with quiet glances. He loved this moment so much, it strengthened his arm as he let go of the memories he’d forgotten. Each and every second that he must have loved just as much as this one. And felt light, knowing, hoping that one day Jack would understand.

In the end only the cover was left, and Gabriel felt tired. Jack’s hand was steady at his elbow as they went back to shore, trembling with adrenaline, exhaustion and the cold.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Gabriel muttered when they reached his car. Jack had arrived on his bike, so this was the perfect moment to- … He clutched the empty hull of his journal. He’d only known Jack for a single day, but somehow knowing he was going to forget even what little he had, it halted him in his tracks.

“I understand,” came Jack’s quiet voice from behind him. “I guess I was selfish. And for that I apologize. I never once thought what it might be like for you, while I’m gone. But you are right. It’s not fair to you. Every day we would be giving you something, only to take it away immediately. You’d grow to hate me, probably. And I’m selfish for wanting to avoid that. But as long as it makes you happy to … to forget me. To never even remember me …”

Gabriel could only nod, not trusting his voice to hold steady now. Jack looked beautiful in the shitty street light, the color washed from his eyes and with deep shadows gauged into his face. He wanted to commit him to memory so much; wished so much he could burn this image into his brain. But it couldn’t be done.

“I hope …” Jack paused. “I hope you will find a way, one day. With someone.”

“Thank you. I hope you will find happiness, too.”

Jack opened his mouth and closed it again without saying anything. Then he just nodded.

“And thanks for this, as well,” Gabriel continued into the ensuing silence. He shrugged off the leather jacket he’d kept slung over his shoulders, feeling the loss of warmth keenly. Jack put it on himself right away, zipping it up to the chin.

“Drive safe,” he said, and stiffly turned to walk away, only to be stopped by Gabriel calling his name again.

“I’m- … I’m sorry. Can I ask for one more thing? I know it’s much, and it’s probably cruel of me to- …”

“Anything,” Jack interrupted him.

Gabriel swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“I’d like you to kiss me goodbye.”

Without hesitation, Jack stepped back into his personal space, one broad hand placed in the small of Gabriel’s back. The other came up to press against his jaw, angling his face perfectly to meet Jack in a soft kiss.

They parted again far too soon, and before Gabriel knew it, the hands were gone, and a warm whisper caressed his ear, before cool night air encompassed him completely.

“Goodbye, Gabriel,” Jack murmured.

He watched with tears in his eyes as Jack drove away on his sleek motorbike. It was the right thing to do, he told himself. For the both of them, it was the right decision. But his heart broke anyway.

Back at home, Sombra gave him an accusing look, as if she knew exactly what had transpired. Perhaps it was written on his face in big, bold letters. But her anger soon melted into love and sadness as he clutched her close and buried his face in her purple hair to hide his tears. He didn’t question that their mother was still awake too, and let her make him some hot chocolate with more marshmallows than milk. Later, he would blame the sugar on his difficulties falling asleep. But he knew it was the last remnants of a memory that were keeping him anchored to the waking world. An image of a strong face, bathed in light and shadow. And as he dreamed, it started to fade.

* * *

Jack listlessly poked at his pasta, unheeding of the ruckus surrounding him. He’d forgotten how loud the barracks were. Or how noisy his friends were.

“Who spat in your Bolognese, Romeo?”

“Shut up, Gérard,” he shot back, more out of muscle memory than real annoyance.

“What? It might explain why you botched your landing today. Weren’t you the one who told me to set my bird on the ground as if I were caressing a lover’s cheek?”

It was pure coincidence, of course, that Gérard’s words caused Jack’s arm to jerk so much he flung his fork at someone’s head in a perfect arc.

For a second, everyone who had seen it fell deathly quiet.

“Had I known you were this desperate for my attention, I would have come to say hello earlier,” said the person who was now picking pieces of tomato sauce and meat out of her otherwise immaculate hair.

“Ana, I didn’t mean to, it was Gérard who- …!”

“Shush,” she said, and as if on cue, the rest of the mess hall erupted into noise again. “What did the moustached baguette say to make you disregard my personal hygiene?”

“Hey!”

Jack and Ana ignored Gérard’s indignant cry, leaning in.

“He was talking about my landing, is all.”

“Oh.” Ana arched a perfect eyebrow, the gesture emphasizing the wedjat tattoo under her left eye. “I’d like to know about that too. And if you throwing pasta at me is another indicator, I’d say something is weighing on your mind.”

Jack groaned, rubbing at his face with both hands.

“Guys, leave me alone. It’s nothing.”

“Why, did you meet a lovely girl while on leave and you can’t get her out of your head, but you don’t want to tell _moi_ about it, lest I steal her from you?”

“No,” Jack groaned and shoved Gérard, hard, nearly causing him to fall off the bench.

“A boy, then?” he guessed, wagging his eyebrows in the most obnoxious manner.

When Jack didn’t say anything, Ana wisely said: “It’s a boy.”

“Wait a second,” came a new voice, with a British accent. “Are congratulations in order?”

“No! Nothing happened.” Jack grumbled. “Or it might have well been nothing.”

“I agree.”

The four of them stiffened in their seats, torn between standing and saluting or remaining seated.

“Colonel Liao, sir, we- …”

“Not another word. I see what’s happening here.” Taping an immaculate finger on the table in front of Jack, their commanding officer calmly looked each of them in the eyes. “Captain Morrison, that landing today was abhorrent. I will not tolerate subpar performance like that again, am I understood?”

“Yes, sir. Loud and clear.”

“Get your head back in the game. Oh, and eat your pasta. That’s an order.”

With that, Colonel Liao strutted off. As soon as he was out of earshot, there were four audible sighs of relief.

“You heart the colonel,” Ana snickered. “Eat up.”

Jack grumbled as he stole Lena’s fork to shovel the pasta in his mouth. Inwardly, however, he was glad for the distraction. No one was asking about his leave anymore. No one had any reason to prod at the still open wound.

It had only been a few days, but he already felt raw and adrift. He missed seeing Gabriel like he was starving. No matter how much he ate or slept or distracted himself with flying, he was still _missing_ him. It was distracting him. And in his line of work, distractions could not only cost one’s own life, but those of others as well.

It was either moon after Gabriel, who had long since forgotten him and lived a happy, content life with his family, or move on and concentrate on his career. Gabriel had told him what he wanted Jack to do – and so he’d try his best.

He had a feeling that he was going to fail.

*

Gabriel woke up slowly, feeling warm and content. Snuggled up in his duvet and blinking at the soft light coming in through his bedroom window, he first stretched his limbs, feeling something in his spine pop. Had he been working on the floor again? He couldn’t remember starting a project that big.

With a yawn, he sat up, only to meet some resistance. There was a laptop on the foot of his bed, which he had nearly kicked to the ground. A bright pink sticky note read: _Good morning Gabi, please watch me._

Grinning to himself, he lifted it and placed it in his lap. Was this one of Sombra’s schemes? It was her birthday today, so it was quite likely that she was going to be pranking the hell out of him all day. But to sneak into his room? She was getting bold.

There was a video program open when the laptop was finished booting up. Intrigued, Gabriel pressed play.

 _Good morning_ , said the screen, and the speakers blasted Kelly Clarkson music. What followed was a montage of pictures and short video clips that looked real, but felt anything but. Then the screen said: _You can’t remember these things because …_ And the next images tore into Gabriel’s heart, numbing his thoughts. Shocked, he touched his head, feeling the ridge of a scar there.

“Hello, Gabriel,” said his mother, looking at him from the laptop’s screen. “My beautiful boy. I am so proud of you, my son. It has been a very long year and a half, but you are doing so well, despite everything. Just remember that your sister and I … We love you so much. If you want to talk to us, we will be downstairs. And I think you have made some notes of your own, on your projects and paintings. It should all be in the book on your desk. I will see you in a little bit. _Te quiero, mijo_.”

Gabriel automatically mirrored the kiss she blew at him through a recording, through space and time. He tasted the bitter salt of his tears on his lips, and took a few minutes after the video stopped to calm his breathing.

There were indeed notes and sketches all over his desk, and a book that seemed to contain a journal of sorts. He would take some time to look at these later. First things first.

“I guess it’s not your birthday, then?” was the first thing he said to Sombra.

She shook her head, watching him hesitantly. With a laugh, he surged forward to hug her tightly. He didn’t know why she would look at him like this, but she returned his hug without delay, so he didn’t worry too much. His mother brought him breakfast and a kiss to the cheek, which he reciprocated sincerely.

“What date is it?” he asked.

“December 1. 2017”

He groaned, both in relief and shock.

“I haven’t missed Christmas.” But he had missed more than an entire year.

“Don’t you worry about these things,” his mother said, dropping another kiss onto his head. “The best gift in the world we could ever ask for is you, here, with us. Happy and healthy.”

Sombra soon excused herself, citing that she had work to do.

“Work?” Gabriel asked his mother.

“She is very busy,” was all that she offered, calmly doing the dishes.

Going back upstairs, Gabriel made a detour before returning to his room. Right next to it was the fourth bedroom they had remodeled into an art studio. After hearing about his condition, he expected it to be barren and empty. Instead, what he found were several finished works, and at least two that were still in progress. All of them were in bright, bold acrylic, with some mixed mediums here and there, some taking up enough space to warrant the crick in Gabriel’s back that he only got from painting on the floor.

In fact, the most current project had been laid out on the ground to dry, and as he stepped closer, there was an instant connection that he couldn’t explain. He had no memory of painting what little there already was; no memory of the initial spark of inspiration that made him start a painting like this. And yet he could see what it was going to be in his inner mind, and he couldn’t wait to bring it closer to completion.

The colors were all warm, ranging from brown to bright orange and red. The shapes were only vaguely hinted at, but Gabriel saw that it was a cave. The entrance or exit to one, to be more precise. Its mouth opened to a small, private beach, encroached by the sea, which was set aflame by the setting sun. And in the middle, vague and small, the hinted-at idea of a human figure. On the canvas, the person was little more than a smear of paint as of yet. But Gabriel touched the dry, rough surface, and saw a broad shape, red refracted off gold, and the purest, coolest blue.

He did not return to his room, but instead knelt down and started mixing the necessary colors. The image was so strong, he barely felt time fly by, until his mother came to call for him, reminding him to eat and drink.

Yet the image stayed.

The painting was so large, he could only make little progress on it. When the natural light faded away, and he was nowhere near finished, the sand and the light and the figure only imagination still, Gabriel felt fear grip his heart. What if he forgot what he wanted to paint tomorrow? What if this was not what he had intended yesterday? What if it got lost during his sleep?

But night came, and he decided to have faith. As he lay in bed, he thought of the image burnt into his inner eye, holding it fast in his thoughts as he fell asleep.

Perhaps, even, he dreamed of the voice and warmth that accompanied the person in his painting. But it might only be wishful thinking.

*

Sombra was a keeper of secrets, a trader of information. It came with the profession as someone who cleaned up digital messes more or less day in and day out. The scandals she could tell! But then, it was more fun to hold all the power in her own hands. Most of the time she felt a gleeful kind of satisfaction, to have her notions reaffirmed. Money, influence and power, they all ultimately bred greed, cruelty and shame.

But keeping a stranger’s secret was different from keeping secrets from her own brother.

She was beyond thankful that Jack Morrison had barged into their lives, showing them a different way to deal with her brother’s condition. One that did not require lies and deception, pain and sacrifice. Or it shouldn’t.

She had known that Jack’s leave was ending, and that there was no way around him going back to his job as an Air Force pilot. But she’d thought that they would find a way, that they could do something to make it work. That he would stay a part of their lives, that he would continue to be with Gabriel, to be there for him. She liked Jack. She loved him for how happy he made Gabriel. For how much better they had been as a family when he was here.

But then he left, and Gabriel told them that he needed to forget about Jack altogether. That they had destroyed every trace of Jack ever having been with them. And then he asked Sombra to make him a new video. One without Jack.

It broke her heart, but she complied with her brother’s wish. It was his decision, after all. So she kept her mouth shut, made him a new video, and bit down on all the bitter comments on the tip of her tongue. It was none of her business. Just another secret to keep.

As time passed, and days became weeks, and weeks turned to months, Sombra noticed a change, not only in herself, but her brother as well. She knew their mother felt it too, but they were both too torn to say anything.

Did it mean that Gabriel remembered? Even if it was unconsciously, there was no mistaking that Gabriel seemed confused and hesitant, if not downtrodden most days. As if he were waiting for something to happen. And when one day Sombra went upstairs to peek in on her brother painting, she was stunned breathless when she saw the subject of his artistic mind.

Most of them were vague enough to be about anyone, really. Outstretched hands, a backlit silhouette, a foggy profile. A lonely figure standing on the shoreline, facing the open ocean. But Sombra knew. It could only be Gabriel’s subconscious remembering, missing Jack.

No matter what, however, Sombra had to respect her brother’s wish. Whether he had done it to spare himself the heartbreak of actually missing Jack, or whether he thought Jack should forget about him … It was not her place to speak her thoughts aloud. She kept her brother company, and assisted him when he needed help with a bigger project to remember the finer details.

Jack was gone, but Gabriel would always have his family to support and love him.

This was not to say that Sombra couldn’t also be selfish. Gabriel might have wanted to forget about Jack, but he had her friend too, in a strange, through-thick-and-thin sort of way. So she didn’t think it was unfair when she used her online links to get her hands on one Captain Jack Morrison’s contact information.

The first time she called him, Jack had been curt and standoffish, obviously trying to get her to back off.

“This isn’t about you,” he told her, though she couldn’t tell if the tension in his voice was from anger or grief. “We have to respect Gabriel’s wishes.”

“I’m not gonna tell him about you, though. Can’t a girl check up on her friend overseas?”

Jack huffed, acquiescing at least the fact that Sombra wasn’t going to give up, so he might as well talk to her.

“I just- … I miss him, Sombra. I miss all of you, but mostly just him. And talking to you will remind me of all that we had, and all that I lost. It will dredge up all those memories and feelings, and I honestly don’t know if I can bear it. I need to focus on my job. There are lives at stake.”

Sombra understood that, but poked fun at Jack until he promised to at least email her once every blue moon. In return, she promised not to tell him about Gabriel or vice versa.

At least, she thought, she was going to keep up this connection. There was no way Gabriel was ever going to change his mind if he never knew about his decision in the first place. But as long as Sombra kept in touch with Jack, she felt as if there was still the possibility that they might return to the carefree happiness their entire family had experienced in those short summer weeks.

Sombra was a keeper of secrets, and though she mostly kept other peoples’ secrets, Jack was her secret too, just a little bit.

*

It was supposed to be a routine surveillance sweep over enemy territory. They had four fighters in the air – Jack’s squad consisting of Ana Amari, callsign Horus, Gérard Lacroix, callsign Paris, Lena Oxton, callsign Tracer, and Jack himself. Their target was an enemy outpost not far from a well-frequented base, but their superiors had found it not only pertinent, but also safe for them to go in and do reconnaissance for a later airstrike.

Approaching from the south-west, they did two fly-bys, once to confirm the location, and once to confirm their intelligence.

The first fly-by had then successfully verify that this was indeed the outpost, and Horus noted some corrections to the coordinates. Just when they prepared for a second fly-by, Tracer reported an anomaly.

“Sir, I think we were spotted!” she cried. “Do we engage?”

“Call it in, Paris,” Jack said. “Stand by for orders.”

They heard Gérard radio back to base, explaining their situation. They could execute the airstrike right now – their fighters were equipped and ready, it was only a matter of the chain of command signing off on the action.

Just when Gérard repeated his message, Jack’s dashboard lit up with a proximity warning.

“Abort, abort!” he shouted. “We have anti-aircraft missiles. I repeat, abort! Missiles incoming.”

Bracing himself, he broke out of formation, hoping to draw the targeting systems away from his squad. As he accelerated his machine, shooting up into the sky, the noise drowned out most of his comms. He kept an eye on his dashboard, waiting for the right speed and elevation to take countermeasures.

“I got it,” he announced, once the heard the satisfying noise of the missiles blowing up behind him.

“Multiple bogeys on your six, Tracer,” called Ana, and not a second later, confirmation from Gérard that they were down.

“Thanks _chéri_ ,” Lena laughed.

With a sharp turn and a drop, Jack re-situated himself in the air, stabilizing his machine to fall back into formation with his squad.

“What’s the word from the colonel?” Jack asked.

“We are good to go,” Gérard replied.

“Okay, Horus on me, Tracer and Paris, you take care of those flaks down there. Make sure we don’t get shot out of the sky.”

A chorus of affirmations, and then their four fighters elegantly split into two groups. Tracer and Paris split up again to come at the outpost from two directions, while Jack and Horus would drop their charges from high up with deadly precision.

Everyone knew their job, and Jack had blind trust in his friends as they moved in perfect synchronicity through the skies.

The cockpits of fighters were tight spaces, and the engines were loud, and any maneuver at such high speeds resulted in multiple Gs of force exerted onto the pilot’s body. It took years of training to withstand the pressure, not only in a literal sense, but the fast thinking, multitasking, precision and adrenaline fueled fearlessness that was necessary to pilot a fighter jet. Most people were not built for it, not only physically, but mentally as well. When others would not feel safe, surrounded by a killing machine weighing several tons, full of explosive fuel, sometimes there was no other place Jack felt safe except in his pilot seat, thousands of feet above ground.

Except with Gabriel. He had felt safe with Gabriel.

Jack pressed a button, and waited for confirmation that the hit was successful. Any second now he expected Colonel Liao to congratulate them, and call his squad back to base. But then he heard Ana shouting frantically in his ear, and he only had a moment to realize what was happening.

 _Oh shit_ , he thought, but there was no time to brace for impact.

Rationally, he knew he only had a handful of seconds before his fighter would crash to the ground. In his panic, however, he tried to fight for control for at least two seconds too long. His vision flashed blue and red as he tumbled out of the sky, spinning uncontrollably, flames spouting from the engines. Warnings flickered, and a roaring sound filled his ears. Perhaps he wasn’t screaming at first, but when felt that the lever that was supposed to eject him from his seat didn’t budge, he felt a cold panic seizing his throat, despite the oxygen mask.

He was going to die.

Everything happened so fast. His vision blackened out as his body was shaken by the forces of gravity, even as he desperately pulled at the lever with all his strength. There was piercing pain slashing across his legs and his face, and all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe anymore.

And then there was nothing at all.

*

Gabriel was the happiest man in the world. Just this morning he awoke to a video message from his sister and mother, telling him that it had been two years since an accident that cost him the ability to remember more than a day ever since. For most, this might be the worst news they could possibly receive – and sure, Gabriel had been shocked and hurt. But his family was there for him. They loved him, and no matter what, they would always be there for him.

His best friends too, had come to visit him, with a surprise that he did not see coming. Seeing Amélie and Akande sitting peacefully at the same table as Jesse McCree was one thing – but when they told him that he was invited to his own art exhibit? He freely admitted that there may have been a few tears involved.

A few hours later, he was now standing in a prestigious art gallery, a place of the kind he could only dream of when he had first become an artist. And they were showing his pieces.

He might have no recollection of painting any of them, but as he strolled through the exhibit, surrounded by people quietly murmuring to each other and admiring – _admiring_ – his work … There was an instant recognition. He knew his own style, the way he set scenes, his brush stroke technique, the way he mixed colors. Yet there was innovation, too. New palettes that were daring, yet soft. He wondered what made him paint them. What inspired him. What vision guided him.

As he walked past painting after painting, some small, some huge, Gabriel started to see a theme. How was this possible, if he only ever remembered one single day? Had he seen this before? Did he intend to do this?

Piecing together the parts, he was overcome with a sense of … loss. Yes – though the paintings held various degrees of warmth to them, and most of them were quite colorful, more so than he was used to from his own work, behind it all he glimpsed at a hidden feeling of melancholy. Some of the contrasts spoke of alienation and uncertainty. Some of the shapes were sharp, like doubt. And over it all lay a fog, a blur, a distortion.

Gabriel stared at a detailed, expressionist snapshot of a street not too far from where he lived. He recognized the stores, and the familiar lighting. People milling about, hurrying to and fro, children playing.

Among them, tall and firm, stood a figure.

If he squinted, it looked like the exact same shape as the man he’d drawn onto a shoreline, gazing into the sunset. It might be the person those hands belonged to that he had painted, holding the crushed petals of a black rose. It might be the man whose footprints were being washed away in one of his paintings. The one to whom the smile lighting up one of the canvases belonged to.

Gabriel adjusted the beanie on his head, withdrawing from the main section of the exhibit. He needed to sort his thoughts, and he’d rather not be approached by a curious patron, or, heaven forbid, one of his nosy friends. He loved them, no doubt, but this was something he needed to figure out himself.

The exhibit was being held in a fancy, modern building Gabriel didn’t recognize. It was all lofty stairs and floor-to-ceiling windows. As he wandered along, he happened to come across a terrace. It looked out onto the neighborhood, the ocean glinting distantly on the horizon, and it was blessedly empty.

Slipping out onto the balcony, Gabriel took a few deep breaths.

It was surreal enough to see his own paintings in this environment. Being displayed to the public – though he vaguely remembered Sombra mentioning tickets – when in fact Gabriel himself felt like no more than a stranger gazing at the canvases. Was what he saw in them mere imagination? Was it his artistic mind that came up with an overarching narrative that, logically, should not be there? It was a miracle that Gabriel had managed to finish any of the paintings, since they were not sketches or other pieces that could be started and finalized within one day. But he felt, instinctively, that these images came from somewhere deeper. They weren’t conscious expressions or clever tricks. No, Gabriel suspected that what had driven him to paint this time was something far more insidious. Something profounder than memory, something more elusive than thought.

He paid it no heed when he heard the glass door slide open behind him, only when the sound was followed by a sharp gasp did he turn around.

In front of him stood a tall man, around his age, staring at him wide-eyed, mouth slack around the butt of an unlit cigarette. There were two ugly, freshly stitched and dressed wounds cutting diagonally across his face, but it did nothing to distract from the near perfect symmetry of his features.

“Uh, hi,” Gabriel said uncertainly. “Yes, that’s my artwork in there, and yes, you’re allowed to smoke out here. I think so, at least.”

The man mutely gripped the cigarette tighter with his lips, and fumbled with his hands. Gabriel saw him trying, and failing, to shuffle a lighter from one hand to the other, since they were occupied holding a pair of crutches.

“Let me help you.”

He gently plucked the lighter from the man’s lax fingers, ignoring the thrill he felt as skin brushed against skin. Silently blessing his dark complexion, he remained stoic, ever as he leaned in to light the cigarette still clutched precariously between stiff lips.

“Thanks,” was the gruff response to Gabriel’s courtesy.

“So …” He rocked back on his heels, stuffing his suddenly sensitive and sweaty hands into his pockets. “My name is Gabriel Reyes. But I guess you already knew that.”

The man nodded, cheeks hollowing as he inhaled a deep lungful of smoke. Gabriel waited, watching the smoke curl back out the man’s nose, slow and deliberate.

“Is that, uh, your way of saying ‘fuck off, I’d like to smoke in peace’?” he chuckled nervously.

A few seconds of calm, smoking breathing passed. And then, a small shake of the head.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” the man said, and the way his lips stretched around the stitches cleanly bisecting his face looked painful. He winced, rearranging his crutches.

“I think I saw some chairs inside, if you’d prefer to sit.”

He stared at Gabriel, eyes transparent. They were a lovely, crisp shade of blue.

“I’m fine,” he replied after a while.

“So … what brings you here on this day?” Gabriel asked, grimacing at his poor attempt at small talk.

“Your sister invited me.”

“Oh. You’re a friend of Sombra’s?”

“I guess.”

The man sighed, releasing a plume of smoke like some ancient, tired dragon, and laboriously shuffled forward on his crutches. Gabriel observed the way his left knee did not seem to bend at all, and the complicated and heavy looking braces that encased his right leg. When he finally managed to lean against the railing, no longer relying on the crutches for balance, Gabriel saw that he did not put any weight at all on the left foot.

“What’s your name, then? If you’re Sombra’s friend, maybe she mentioned you, or- …”

“I’m sure she didn’t mention me,” the man interrupted Gabriel.

“Okay. Uh, I’d still like to know your name.”

Finished with his cigarette, the man dropped it to the floor and then stared at it as it lay there. He made no move to shift his weight and crush it with one foot.

“I suppose it makes no difference either way,” he said, and shrugged. He knew about Gabriel’s condition, then. “You can call me Jack.”

“See, that wasn’t so bad. Jack, huh? What do you think about the exhibit?”

Jack gripped the railing, eyes still trained on the smoldering cigarette butt.

“I’m no connoisseur, I don’t know. The artwork is- … I suppose- …” He fell silent, face contorting in pain. “I don’t understand. Why are you being nice to me?”

Gabriel blinked.

“You said you’re Sombra’s friend. And any friend of my sister’s is my friend too.”

“So you’re just being polite.”

For some reason, that sounded … disappointed. Bitter. Gabriel was at a loss. He did not know how to talk to Jack, only that, for some reason, he was apparently saying all the wrong things.

“Look, you don’t remember me, because … You know why. But you don’t want to talk to me. Believe me. So it would be best for the both of us if we just went our separate ways, okay? It’s my fault, for coming here, but I just wanted to see- …” Jack sighed, turning his back to Gabriel. “I just wanted to see you. One last time.”

The realization was like a blow to his sternum, punching all the air out of Gabriel. His gaze trailed along the hunched shape of Jack, imagining him standing proud and tall. The hands, now no longer clenched around the grips of his crutches, hanging slack and defeated over the railing.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we,” he murmured.

It was an understatement, if there had ever been one. There was a base recognition lighting up Gabriel’s heart, the way he knew his mother’s warmth, or Sombra’s sleepy breathing. He knew this man. He knew Jack.

Because he was the person in each and every one of the paintings in Gabriel’s exhibit. He was the one that he had been missing, whose loss he had been mourning.

And he loved him.

Moving instinctively, Gabriel surged forward, feeling his body melt into Jack’s presence. Like they belonged together, like two jigsaw pieces. Jack looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face. And then he turned into Gabriel’s space, finishing, completing, slotting them into place.

The kiss was merely a natural extension of it – this meeting. This return. This coming back together.

Gabriel only withdrew when Jack let out an involuntary grunt of pain. He traced a gentle thumb along the wound that split Jack’s lips at an odd angle.

“What happened?”

Jack averted his eyes, disconnecting Gabriel’s touch.

“I, uh … I crashed a plane.”

Gabriel chuckled, confused, but as he reached out again, his adoring gaze came to rest at the downturned edges of Jack’s mouth, and the unhappy frown furrowing his brow.

“Gabriel, don’t do this. I’ve- … You don’t even know me anymore. You didn’t want this. It’s unfair to you, and I don’t want to hurt you. Not again.”

“So we did know each other, at one point. And we have done this before, too,” Gabriel said triumphantly, gesturing at the narrow space between them.

Jack grimaced.

“That’s not the point, Gabriel. You don’t really want this. You said you wanted to forget me, but I just had to come here and ruin it all again. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why would I not want this?” Gabriel bridged the gap between them, pressing a gentle kiss to Jack’s cheek. “You are right, perhaps I don’t remember you. I didn’t know your name until you told me. But have you not seen my paintings? I do recognize you. I missed you. You were all I could think about for … forever.”

“But you said- …”

“Forget what I said. Did you miss me?”

“What are you- …”

“Answer the question, Jack. Did you miss me?”

“Yes. Of course I did,” Jack mumbled.

“And I may not remember any of it, not consciously … But when I saw my paintings for the first time today, do you know what I saw? I saw that I was heartbroken. That I was pining for something I wanted, but couldn’t name. That I missed you, Jack. And no matter how nice those people inside think the paintings are, I don’t want to feel that again, not for a single day.”

“Gabriel- …”

“I don’t know you,” he cut in, silencing Jack with another kiss to his cheek. “But so God help me, I want to get to know you again. And again, and again. Every day, until the end of days.”

He stayed close, not crowding or restraining, just holding Jack gently. He allowed him to put his weight on Gabriel as he cried silently, and soaked up the tears with fleeting, tender kisses.

“I missed you so much,” Jack sobbed, face buried into Gabriel’s shoulder. “I missed you, I never stopped loving you.”

“Shh, Jack, I love you too.”

Rocking him gently in his arms, Gabriel simultaneously wondered what could have driven his past self to inflict this pain on this man, and thought how lucky he was to have him back. Today, and in the future, as long as they wanted each other. They were going to figure it all out, and they would be happy.

He had something to look forward to, now. And he couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow, to start his new life, together with Jack.

* * *

Gabriel Reyes woke gently from what felt like the most restful sleep of his life. As he regained consciousness, however, he started to register that things were not making much sense. Had he not been at home yesterday? Did he crash at Akande’s place, with the luxurious cotton sheets and heavenly mattress of his guest room?

No, he opened his eyes to an unknown room. Light was filtering through floral-patterned curtains, illuminating a broad, oak dresser and a nightstand with a laptop, a book and a steaming mug of coffee on it.

Curious, Gabriel sat up, spotting a bright pink sticky note taped to the laptop. As he did so, he froze at the sight of a bright object glinting on his left hand.

A ring.

He stopped, bringing his hand closer to his face. Stunned, he watched the early morning light being reflected off the tiny diamond set into the plain gold ring.

He watched the video on the laptop and leafed through the book – a journal, his journal, number six apparently – but the realization had already spread through his chest, stemming from his heart, and warming his entire body.

He may not remember it, but he was married. He was loved. He was _home_.

A while later, as he descended the stairs dressed in a fluffy dressing gown, feet stuck in comfortable slippers, he listened to the strange, new sounds coming from what had to be the kitchen. He hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to disturb the peaceful sight of a man – his man, his husband, _Jack_ – sitting at the dining table, patiently showing a young girl something on the tablet held between them. There was a ring on his hand, too, and when he ran it affectionately over the girl’s long, dark hair, Gabriel felt like his lungs should burst from happiness.

“… because of uplift? Does this mean- … Oh!”

Gabriel held his breath as the girl paused in her excited chatter looking up and at him. She had deep, brown eyes, shining with warmth and glee.

“Good morning,” he managed to say.

“Good morning, Gabriel.”

He reluctantly tore his eyes from the girl to look at his husband, who smiled at him crookedly, emphasizing the scars. Jack grabbed the crutch that had been leaning against the back of his chair and got up with minimal fuss.

“Come in, you must be hungry. Hana, get up, go say hello to you _appa_.”

The girl immediately shot out of her seat, fast as a bullet, and wound her arms around Gabriel’s waist in a tight hug.

“Hello,” she said, her voice muffled by Gabriel’s dressing gown.

Without hesitation, Gabriel reached out and hoisted her up to sit on his hip. Now, they were eye to eye, and Gabriel couldn’t help but grin.

“You must be my beautiful, smart daughter, Hana.”

“Yes!” she crowed, burying deft fingers in his curls. “I know you don’t remember me, but I remember _everything_. Do you want me to tell you what we did yesterday? You and me and dad went to the beach, and we played sea monsters!”

“Oh? Tell me more.”

Sitting there at the kitchen table with his daughter on his knees, his husband fussing over the both of them and cooking them breakfast, Gabriel was happy. And he saw it in Jack’s and Hana’s faces that they were happy, too. They were a family, and they were together, and nothing else mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> I would very much appreciate any comments from you guys! Tell me what you think :D And if you'd prefer it, you can also hit me up at my tumblr _llaevateinn.tumblr.com_
> 
>  **Trivia/Headcanons (talk to me if you wanna know more, I probably forgot 90%):**  
>  1\. Amélie is a ballet dancer, like in canon. Through Gabriel's relationship with Jack, she ultimately meets mister baguette himself, and marries Gérard Lacroix.  
> 2\. I did not find the proper place to explain this, but after Jack's accident, he was so badly injured that he was honorably discharged - finally allowing him to be with Gabriel. His left leg was shattered to hell, hence why he still uses crutches in the epilogue scene.  
> 3\. Jesse absolutely kept Jack's bike in his repair shop for longer than necessary because he saw that there was potential between him and Gabriel.  
> 4\. Jack was a friend of a friend of Hana's parents, who were both military as well. When they passed away, he and Gabriel immediately agreed to adopt Hana as their daughter.  
> 5\. Gabriel and Jack have their own honey producing bees in their garden, courtesy of Jack's brothers.  
> 6\. In this 'verse, Akande is Gabriel's manager. Yes, no one is evil. This is an evil-free AU. Sue me.


End file.
